


The Life of an Overworked Prophet

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas Eve, Christmas Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 17:25:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17125601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: For the 2018 Tumblr Rare-pair Secret Santa. Sam and Chuck spend Christmas Eve together. The smut is a little more intense than what I am used to writing but, well, happy holidays.





	The Life of an Overworked Prophet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [supernaturalsimply](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=supernaturalsimply).



Another fan letter. Another convention to attend. At least the could be ignored for a few days, that was one of the few positives Chuck could see about the fact that it was Christmas Eve. Chuck had long regretted ever hearing the name, Winchester. At least as far as his writing career was concerned. And he was pretty sure he’d seen every ‘67 impala that had ever been made. At conventions, rows, and rows of black impalas, as if a sea of them threatened to engulf him.   
  
Chuck groaned as he set the letter on a pile of other letters and stared at his typewriter. Writer’s block had struck again. He puffed in frustration as he leaned back in his overstuffed rolling chair, letting it lean back slightly with his weight. Letting his gaze wander to the window just beyond his desk, he observed the icy streets below. People meandered walked about dressing in coats and hats, snow and ice clumped in piles in the gutters, icicles hung from shop awnings. Just a typical day in December.   
  
He had to finish this last project. He loved and hated his work. He was an introvert at hard and hiding out here in his little studio apartment was all he ever wanted out of life. But no. Life couldn’t have happened that way. Inspiration had struck hard, harder than it should have. He had been compelled- no driven- to write the story of a lifetime. That story became a novel, then became a series and before he knew it, he was in too deep — no chance of getting out of it now. His life, like the Winchesters, was literally written down.   
  
He was so engrossed in his silent musings he didn’t hear the door open and close, but he smiled when he felt a pair of strong arms slink around his shoulders, rubbing them lovingly. He sighed, leaning into the impromptu massage. “Hey,” he murmured as he felt the core of a strong body press against his back.   
  
“Hey,” came the reply. “Hows it coming?” Chuck spun around in his chair to meet the loving gaze of Sam Winchester.   
  
“Does staring at a blank screen for three hours count as productive work?” Chuck wondered aloud, giving the man he loved a dismayed little smirk.   
  
“Sounds like you could use a break,” Sam responded as he took Chuck’s hands and pulled him to his feet. The prophet let Sam guide him over to the couch. He smiled as he found himself enveloped in Sam’s arms as they cuddled on the couch.   
  
“Dean hates you for the last book by the way,” Sam mentioned as Chuck put a head on his shoulder. “The part about having to go hunt a vengeful spirit haunting a cat shelter has him rattled. He’s already stocking up on Benadryl.”   
  
“Can’t help what comes across Prophet radio,” Chuck said with a chuckle. “I’m just calling it when I hear it. Makes me wonder if I’m really that great of a writer or if it’s just this whole prophet thing because I can’t seem to come up with much without it.”   
  
“You’re a kick-ass writer,” Sam insisted. “Inspiration takes time.”   
  
Chuck thought about that, and about how his life had changed so much since the day he first thought of the Winchesters. “Hey what are you doing here anyway?” he asked as he realized what day it was. “It’s Christmas Eve.”   
  
“Yeah well you know I’ve never really cared for Christmas,” Sam responded. “And I know you were probably over here trying to hide until it's over so I figured I’d hide out here with you.”   
  
“I assumed Dean had plans,” Chuck continued to question. It’s not that he hated Christmas so much, its more that he just couldn’t be bothered to participate in it. And yeah, now that he thought about it, there was a little bit of hate in there for it. He hated the cold. He would have preferred to live somewhere in the tropics if he had the chance. He smiled as he thought of him and Sam resting on lawn chairs on the beach day in and day out.   
  
And there was the commercialism. What other holiday in the year celebrated avarice more than Christmas? From Black Friday to a frenzy of Christmas shopping where malls and shopping centers were crowded to bursting with humanity.   
  
And of course, there were all the social gatherings. From Thanksgiving to white elephant parties to secret Santas to holiday office parties, it was an endless stream of eggnog soaked festivities centered around gluttony and hubris.   
  
As if his life wasn’t more social than he wanted anyway. Between the conventions and the book signing events and the interviews and the cameo appearances, it all was enough to make his head spin.   
  
“Well if you get to skip out then so do I,” Sam proclaimed nonchalantly as he held the overworked prophet in his arms. “Besides, I figured we could have our own little Christmas.”   
  
Sam got up and crossed over to the kitchen. As Chuck sat up on the couch and watched him, he retrieved a bag that was sitting on the small counter. He brought it over and began unloading its contents on the coffee table. “I got the works,” he said. “Eggnog, salami, cheese, and crackers, brie, beer, sugar cookies, oh and The Nightmare Before Christmas.”   
  
“This is amazing!” Chuck exclaimed with a grin as he sorted through all the items. “Now this is the kind of Christmas I don’t mind. You, me, alone here, far away from the festivities and social obligations.”   
  
“Central heating helps too,” Sam pointed out as he handed Chuck a beer and put in the movie. He turned out the lights, grabbed the throw blanket from the top of the couch and tucked himself and Chuck under it as they both cuddled on the couch.   
  
Of course, Chuck knew full well that the evening would hold much more than just a movie and some snacks so when, halfway through the movie, Sam suddenly leaned in for a kiss, Chuck happily received it. The passionate kisses deepened, and Chuck grunted as he steered Sam onto him, laying himself prone on the couch.   
  
“Is this my Christmas present?” Chuck murmured as he let Sam’s weight settle on top of him, gazing up into those mesmerizing hazel eyes and reaching up to tuck a small strand of hair behind Sam’s ear.   
  
“Maybe,” Sam smiled and kissed more before slipping a hand under Chuck’s shirt, gently caressing his lover tenderly. Slowly but surely, each piece of clothing fell away, and the two men huddled under a throw blanket, passionately stroking and touching.   
  
Chuck was sure sparks would fly as he was entered after a few moments of intense mouth work from the Winchester. He closes his eyes, savoring the feeling of having himself filled as Sam began to move, slowly, sensually at first, then gaining speed, encouraged as each thrust eliciting a grunt or a moan from the prophet. Chuck was sure he’d burst any moment as he lay on his back, letting Sam stroke his own arousal as he vigorously moved in and out.   
  
About halfway through, a shift and a whirl and Chuck found himself atop Sam, the younger Winchester writhing in pleasure as Chuck moved in and out of him.   
  
The lovemaking left both men happily satisfied. Afterward, Chuck lay on top of Sam, his head resting on top of his lover’s chest, listening to soft thump of Sam’s heart.   
  
“How’s that for a Christmas gift?” Sam asked as they lay there, listening to the ending of the movie, the comforting darkness enveloping them both.   
  
“Perfect,” Chuck said as he yawned, sleep threatening to take him. The rest of the evening was spent in comfortable silence as the two men dosed on the couch, enjoying their quiet Christmas Ever far from the crowds and the frenzy of the holidays. The whole world seemed forgotten at that moment, and Chuck basked in the moment. Maybe Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.


End file.
